


i'll take what i want from your heart (and i'll keep it)

by kishere



Series: on my heart, you remain [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, alcohol consumption, anti-monarchy ideas, drun ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishere/pseuds/kishere
Summary: Maybe he did need to go party with Ian tonight, he thought with a defeated sigh as he texted Ian. He needed to get laid at the very least if he was fantasizing about strangers that came into the shop. Sure, it would be nice to go on an actual date but most of the guys around here weren’t looking for anything more serious than a one night stand.Fucking college towns, Phil thought bitterly.Part II of "on my heart you remain" series
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: on my heart, you remain [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506461
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	i'll take what i want from your heart (and i'll keep it)

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! i took this unexpected time off to finish this part of the tattoo au that has been sitting in my drafts since october! you do need to read part one for this part to make sense. there are more parts coming after this, i just haven't started writing them since ysmhof takes up a lot of my time and energy, so this series will update a lot more sporadically than that. 
> 
> thank you profusely to [itsmyusualphannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmyusualday/pseuds/itsmyusualphannie) for betaing.

Well, Phil thought as he watched Dan leave his family’s tattoo shop, that had been something. 

At the very least Phil was just thankful that Dan had been of legal age. He frowned, remembering the numerous times when he had first started on the till that he had almost let someone underaged get a tattoo. He just liked to believe in the best of people, okay? But he had learned his lesson after he had accidentally let someone underaged slip through and the shop had gotten a fine that Phil had to work overtime to pay off himself.

He walked to the back and went through the process of cleaning up his area (throwing away the old saran wrap that covered his table and putting down new wrap, putting the needle he used on Dan in the biohazard box, etc.) and sanitizing his equipment, but his mind kept going back to Dan. 

Everything about that interaction should be annoying Phil, but instead, he felt an inexplicable fondness for Dan. Dan who wanted a tattoo and tried to be so brave at first and now has some three tiny lines down his ribcage that might be able to pass as birthmarks (once they healed). Phil loved clients that would stay still but Dan kept shifting and tensing. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world but it was maddening, watching the thighs clench and unclench at random, the way that Dan shook with his whole body when he saw the collage on the ceiling (that Phil worked very hard on, may he add). Maybe the fondness came from nostalgia, Phil thought back to how Dan wanted a line from My Chemical Romance on his body. Was it his residual emo phase? 

It didn’t hurt that he was fit, Phil thought idly, remembering the slightly tanned body of Dan, how it looked good stretching in his chair. But Dan wouldn’t be the first pretty boy in his chair, nor would he be the last. By the way, the man (assistant? boyfriend?) who came to fetch Dan at the end of his appointment, it would probably be the last time the two met anyway and -

Buzz buzz.

Phil paused in his clean up work to check his phone. It was probably Ian, wanting to see if Phil wanted to hang out tonight. Phil powered his screen on and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was a notification from Twitter saying he had a new follower instead. He greedily opened the notification and felt his face pull into a confused frown. This person was verified? He hadn’t had a verified follower in a while so he curiously clicked on the username and was greeted by Dan’s face in the user picture spot. He didn’t have anything in the bio except his name and his age; there wasn’t even a link to any other social media. So why was he verified? Maybe he was a comedian? Phil thought he had been kind of funny, but not like comedian level funny. While he was ruminating on that he received another notification saying that Daniel Howell had liked one of his tweets.

And another.

And another. 

Annnnnnnnnnd another.

He didn’t get this much attention unless he had posted a new video, especially from one person. Phil blinked and went to see which posts Dan had liked. None of them was for his videos. Most were photos of healed tattoos that Martyn had done for him recently interspersed with selfies would post occasionally. Phil felt his face start to grow warm. Sure, he knew people would like his selfies, but there was a difference in knowing the person who would like his selfies was fit and had warm thighs and wore tight briefs and - 

Okay, stop the creepy thoughts there, Lester, Phil thought, a little panicked, before closing out of the Twitter app. 

Maybe he did need to go party with Ian tonight, he thought with a defeated sigh as he texted Ian. He needed to get laid at the very least if he was fantasizing about strangers that came into the shop. Sure, it would be nice to go on an actual date but most of the guys around here weren’t looking for anything more serious than a one night stand.

Fucking college towns, Phil thought bitterly as he twirled a pen in his hand as he checked his phone for the time. 3:55 pm. He had two more hours and no set appointments. 

He could do this.

-

Shit, he was so late, Phil thought as he tumbled out the front door of his house. Ian had texted him nearly twenty minutes ago saying he needed to be ready to go but Phil had been in the shower. He nearly teared up in relief as he saw Ian still parked on the street in front of his house. Or he was tearing up from the bitter cold. He had opted out of a jacket, sure it would just get lost at whatever party they went to.

He went to open the door of the ‘98 Camry and found it was locked. He rapped a flat hand against the passenger window of the Camry as he hopped from foot to foot in the cold. He knew Ian could hear him; Phil could see the slight haze of smoke escaping from the driver’s side window.

“Ian,” he yelled out after a second, trying the handle again. This time it, thankfully, opened. 

“‘Sup,” Ian said.

Phil threw himself in the front seat before vigorously rubbing his own arms. “Freezing my bollocks off, mate.”

“Wear a jacket,” Ian said casually as he took a drag off his cigarette. 

“Nah,” Phil said, shaking his head as Ian silently offered him a drag of the cigarette. “Just gonna lose it anyway.”

“You sure it’s not because you want to pull?” Ian said, eyeing Phil’s outfit. It was black skinnies and a shirt that was loose around the collar showing off his collarbones. Phil has debated grabbing a flannel but figured they would cover up his tattoos too much; they tended to help when he was on the pull. 

“...so what if I am?” Phil muttered, ignoring the way Ian laughed obnoxiously at Phil’s pouting face. 

“Oh, the wee baby Phil’s on the pull now?”

“Fuck off. What are you? Scottish?”

“Aye laddie,” Ian replied in a terrible Scottish accent. 

“So, whose party are we crashing? Brian’s?” Phil asked as he dug through the glove box, using the street lights to find a Muse CD. He popped it into the CD player after a triumphant cheer. 

“Nah. Met a bird last week who invited us to a campus party,” Ian said.

Phil tried not to sigh loudly at that bit of news. 

“Oi, you’re not too good to go to a campus party now, are you?” Ian asked, looking at Phil quickly before turning back to keep his eyes on the road. 

“No, I’m not,” Phil said. “They’re just gross. I got puked on at the last one.” 

“Part of the college experience,” Ian said and Phil just knew he was smiling. “You could put it on your YouTube channel. Be a real funny story I bet.”

“Nobody goes on there for my personal life. They like the funny stories from the parlour,” Phil said with a laugh.

“Well, have you tried? You know, the personal stories?” Ian asked, slowly pulling up in front of another house and laying on his horn for a moment. This is why Phil didn’t drive; he hated being the designated driver and picker-upper of people. That, and he was god-awful at it. 

“No, I haven’t,” Phil said, staring out the window as someone jogged up to the car. Phil beamed as he saw Sean jog up to the car. 

“Hey,” Sean said as he climbed into the backseat. 

“Yo,” Ian said as he drove off before Sean had even buckled up. Phil never heard the seatbelt click into place on the thirty-minute ride to the university campus in Manchester. Phil did his best not to mention it, as his own seatbelt seemed to choke him. They picked up a few more people on the way in, jamming the car so packed that some people had to sit on laps, before parking a few blocks away from the university. It was a collection of flats where older students (with the help of daddy’s money) tended to live off-campus. 

Phil shivered as he stepped out of the car, rubbing his hands up and down his arms as he waited for Ian to lead them to the party. Ian texted on his phone for a few minutes before calling out to get everyone’s attention.

“This way,” Ian said before he started to walk towards the flat. It was up three flights of stairs and Phil made a vow not to get absolutely pissed; he didn’t think he could handle stumbling down the steps drunk. 

There was a slightly muffled beat that they could hear as the group arrived on the third landing. Ian knocked on the door and a few moments later, when it went unanswered, tried opening the door. It swung open easily and Phil was assaulted by the beat. As they all shuffled into the flat, Phil took a look around. It looked the same as any other uni flat, maybe a little more trashed because of the party going on but not by much Phil reconded. It wasn’t jammed packed full of people but there was a decent-sized crowd.

“Oh em gee, Ian, hiiiiiiii,” a pretty blonde girl said as she bounced forward. She pulled Ian into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She peeked around Ian’s frame and waved at everyone standing behind him. “Come on in, everyone! Now the real party can start!” 

Phil heard Ian laugh as the others seemed to scatter, even Sean, the traitor. Phil looked over at Ian and the blonde, whose name he still didn’t know. They were wrapped around each other in a way that made Phil want to make himself scarce. He backed away slowly, turning to try and find the kitchen. It wasn’t that Phil wasn’t a people person, but he could admit he was happiest if the party consisted mostly of people he knew. To combat this, Phil had perfected a system that involved three shots of Malibu rum and waiting in a corner until the effects of the alcohol made him loose-lipped and more social among strangers. 

Phil managed to find his liquor of choice, along with a few others, and drank the shots in rapid succession. He also took a few shots of something amber that caused him to screw up his face as he tasted it. He stood in the kitchen for a while, people watching before he moved to the lounge where there was a group of people dancing in the centre of the room. Phil wished the alcohol would kick in a bit faster so he could go flail in the crush of the crowd without feeling self-conscious. 

He leaned against the nearest wall and watched as people danced. He didn’t know how long he watched for, but his eyes kept getting drawn to one guy on the fringe, wearing a tight black tee-shirt and tight black pants, standing out against everyone else wearing bright neon colours. The guy didn’t seem to have a preference for who he was dancing with; boys, girls, he grinded and twirled with all of them. He was so fixated on how the guy was dancing that he had to blink in shock when the guy stopped after a few songs, seemed to gawk at him, and began to walk in his direction. 

Phil looked side to side to see if maybe he was walking towards somebody else. Nobody was on either side of him. The dancing boy (god he looked younger, the closer he came to Phil) got up close and beamed at him, revealing a dimple and the fact it was the kid (god, why did Phil sound like he was thirty) that Phil tattooed earlier. 

“I knew you looked familiar,“ the other exclaimed, directly in Phil’s face making him jump. “Phil the tattoo guy!”

“And you’re Mysterious Daniel, right?” Phil asked, already knowing the answer, just wanted to give his brain a chance to boot up. 

The other boy tilted his head back and laughed. “I’m just Dan; Daniel’s for when I’m in trouble.”

“You looked like you were Daniel earlier,” Phil said, teasing. 

Dan shrugged, his loose black tee-shirt slipping down to expose more of his collarbone. Dan rested a hand on Phil’s arm. “Probably. Come dance with me anyway?”

Phil was trying to pull tonight. He could always be pulled into the crush of people dancing. Phil pushed himself off the wall and followed Dan to the dance area. They were near the middle of the group of dancers, almost hidden from view of anyone just walking in with the way the lighting in the room was. The song wasn’t one Phil recogniszed but it was fast-paced and poppy. Phil threw up his hands and moved around, Dan not far behind him. They danced like that for a few songs, uninhibited until a girl started to aggressively grind against Phil’s crotch. Phil watched Dan’s face go from happy and carefree to pouty. 

Dan cut in and pulled Phil in close, their lower bodies bumping against each other momentarily before Dan scooted back a more respectable distance. 

“Gotta… gotta leave room for Jesus,” Dan said, a teasing smile on his face. 

Phil threw his head back with a laugh, unable to help himself. The way they danced together, according to many Jesus followers, would need to be rectified. Create more room. Phil pulled Dan in a little closer until Dan’s arms were wrapped around his neck. 

This close, Phil could see a faint smattering of freckles along the bridge of Dan’s nose and his eyes, which had been just brown in the parlour, looked like the honey whiskey Martyn had sneaked him in Florida two summers ago. Good whiskey. Phil wanted to drink them. No, Phil wanted another drink to help his dry throat when Dan and him stared into each other’s eyes, slow dancing in the middle of a bunch of want to be ravers. 

“You have pretty eyes,” Dan said with a smile. It wasn’t a dimpled smile like earlier, but it was still pretty. 

“So do you,” Phil whispered in Dan’s ear. 

Dan shook his head, nearly smacking into Phil’s nose. “Nah mate, mine are boring brown. They match my hair.”

“Not boring,” Phil mumbled as the next song seemed to slow down. They were already slow dancing, so not much changed. Phil tried not to snort as a guy across the room seemed to be putting on a light show with lights attached to strings, but because of the tempo, it was jumpy and out of place. “I know boring.”

“Oh, so what’s boring?” Dan asked, his hands playing with the ends of Phil’s hair. His neck felt sweaty from where Dan’s hands laid but he didn’t want them to move either. 

“Green eyes,” Phil said, causing Dan to laugh.

“You’re taking the piss,” Dan said through some giggles. 

“A little,” Phil admitted. “But I don’t think there is anything boring about you Dan.”

“Oh, talk to me about my law degree and you’ll realisze you’re wrong,” Dan said with a snort. 

“Law degree? But...your tattoo…,” Phil said feeling confused. What lawyer got a tattoo that said ‘three cheers for anarchy’? 

“Inside joke. I’ll tell you about it later,” Dan explained, before releasing his arms from around Phil’s neck, dragging one finger down the entirety of Phil’s right arm. Phil was not able to hide the shiver. “Did you...did you want to get out of here? My apartment is close by.”

Phil felt himself nod along easily. “Yeah. I think I would.” 

Dan smiled at him, with a dimple showing. 

-

Dan actually lived a few floors up from Ian’s bird’s apartment. The walk up had Phil and Dan nervously bumping into each other and stopping to kiss in some of the deserted stairways. Small pecks, nothing that would be cause for public indecency. 

They barely made it inside Dan’s hallway before Dan had Phil pressed up against the closest wall, kissing him like he was parched for affection. Dan pulled away after a moment and led Phil into the lounge, shoving him on to the couch. 

“Wanna ride you right here. Can’t wait,” Dan mumbled against his mouth, causing Phil to buck up against Dan. He was sporting a semi. Phil had his hands up the back of Dan’s shirt, kissing the other boy breathless, when he heard a voice clearing from the corner of the room, causing Phil to jump. 

“What the fuck?” Phil questioned, looking at the guy sitting in the (now lit-up) corner of the lounge. It was the same guy from earlier who had come into the shop when Dan was done getting a tattoo and escorted him out. “Is...this your boyfriend? I’m not doing a threesome. I’m not even doing a twosome anymore. I’m leaving.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dan replies, looking into Phil’s eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend, I promise.”

Dan didn’t move from on top of him, but he turned his head towards the guy sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. “Hey Robert, could we uh. Have some privacy?”

“You snuck out again,” the corner guy (Robert) said, sounding tired. “Are you trying to get me fired, my lord?” 

Lord? Why was he calling Daniel a lord? And why was no one letting Phil leave? Dan was plastered against his front, seemingly impervious to Phil’s shoves. God, Phil knew he needed to hit the gym more but this was embarrassing. 

“I’m not trying to get you fired. I just wanted to go out,” Dan said, his voice sounding a bit more posh and haughty than it had at the party. “Besides, I’m back now. Now could I please have some privacy?”

“Can I uh...leave?” Phil asked. 

“No,” Dan said just as Robert said, “Yes.”

Dan and Robert engaged in a stare-off while Phil squirmed underneath Dan. His semi was gone and Phil was convinced in that moment he would never get hard again.

“Right, so this has been. Fun,” Phil said awkwardly. He didn’t say these two needed to go to couples counselling, not wanting to get into whatever weird dynamic this was. 

He’s pretty sure this was one of the stories Ian said he should share on YouTube, but Phil was hoping he could someday get past this moment without a lot of therapy. 

“Robert’s my bodyguard, not my boyfriend,” Dan said, looking back at Phil, breaking eye contact with the (frankly) hench-looking man sitting in the corner. Although, in the dim light, Phil couldn’t tell if the chair was small or if Robert was just that massive. Not the point, Phil. “Never had a boyfriend.”

“Bodyguard?” Phil asked, looking between Dan and Robert a few times. He remembered the certified Twitter. “Erm. Are you, like, famous?”

“No, but my father is,” Dan answered, sounding tired. He stuck out a hand in the small space between them. “Daniel Howell, future Duke of Reading unless I get disowned for having a tattoo.” 

Phil blinked. And blinked again as the words started to sink in. “You’re a duke?”

“Not yet. Technically I’m an earl but that’s a courtesy title,” Dan said. 

“You. Have a title. And you got a tattoo about anarchy.” Phil’s words seemed to spill out of his mouth. 

“Yes,” Dan said with a nod. Phil noticed with some horror, Dan was still perched on his lap. “That’s the joke.”

“I...should I have called you my lord?”

“Probably but we’re not at a state function so it doesn’t matter,” Dan said, a sly smile coming across his face momentarily. “I should take you as a date to one.”

Dan paused and his face lit up.

“I should take you as a date to one!”

“Oh my god,” Robert said, his hands coming up to massage at his forehead. “You can’t be serious.”

“You’re right Robert. That probably shouldn’t happen until after we dated for a while,” Dan said, his tone more thoughtful, a hand coming up to hold his own chin thoughtfully.

“Who said anything about dating?” Phil piped up, his breathing finally under control.

“Well, I was leading up to that,” Dan said, turning back to face Phil. “So Phil, are you seeing anyone?”

“No?”

“Fancy anyone?”

“How does this pertain to dating?”

“Well, usually if you fancy someone you won’t date someone else,” Dan explained, like he was talking to a four-year-old, but slurring. At least he was climbing out of Phil’s lap so he could think again. 

“I...okay. I don’t fancy anyone at the moment, why?” Phil asked nervously. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he felt like it was going to add to the craziness of the night.

“Would you like to date me?” Dan asked.

This story was definitely never going on Youtube; no one would ever believe him, Phil thought hysterically. 

“I barely know you,” Phil blurted out. 

“He’s right,” Robert said and Phil was thankful that someone else was sane in this room. 

“Hence dating. That’s how you get to know someone,” Dan said, looking between Robert and Phil. He stood up and started pacing the room. 

“You could also just be friends,” Robert said.

“Well yes, but this would be perfect. It would get the girls off my back and I could come out to Father,” Dan muttered to himself, before turning to Phil, his eyes alight. “How about it?”

“You want to use me to come out to your father...and the media… don’t you have any friends you could do this with?” Phil asked in a last-ditch effort. 

“None that are gay,” Dan explained. 

“So you chose a perfect stranger? I could be an anti-monarchist for all you know,” Phil said. 

“Well, are you an anti-monarchist?” 

“Look, that’s a hard thing to answer. I mean I like the queen - ” Phil started to explain before shaking his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that I’m a total stranger that you’re asking to be your boyfriend.”

“Look, Phil,” Dan said, grabbing Phil’s hand and holding it between his massive hands. God he wished he had gotten to feel them on him at least once before he ran away from this insanity. “I’ll be honest. I’m a little pissed but you seem like a really nice bloke. I could really use your help with this. It would only be a few months of your life.”

And because Phil was a little pissed as well as a nice bloke, he sighed and asked, “How would this work?”


End file.
